Touch Me Not
by flowersinyourattic
Summary: In exchange for her normal elven traits, Miniel is born with a powerful gift she so dreadfully hated. Because of this, she is forced to leave her home for Valinor, but along the way, she ends up traveling with the company of Thorin Oakenshield instead. Will she be able to leave them behind in Rivendell or will a certain dwarf prince convince her to join them in their quest? Kili/OC
1. New Beginnings

**And I'm back! I really wasn't supposed to come back **_**yet**_**, but my email keeps telling me a bunch of other people still follow this story so thank you very much! Also, the trailer for The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies just came out so I thought I post this to celebrate the much awaited trailer :-**) **I'm not really sure if I'm allowed to suddenly post a new chapter in this story, but this isn't really like a test run thing, this is the official first chapter of the new and improved Touch Me Not. It just came a bit early ;)**

**I hope you enjoy this new version of it!**

* * *

She impatiently tapped her fingers on the wooden window ledge.

Miniel couldn't remember the last time she had been this anxious, probably because that moment never existed. She couldn't think of any other moment except for this one. Her memories were now clouded by the one sentence she never thought she'd hear her father say.

"_You must leave home."_

It still pained her to replay that moment in her head over and over. It had been an ordinary day for her. She had woken up with the promise of routine and normalcy. She specifically remembered being excited that day because her brother had agreed to let her drop her bow and arrows in exchange for a fine, elven sword. Well, a wooden practice sword, that is. She was still happy nonetheless. It took a great deal of persuading and begging for her father and brother to let her use a sword.

After her training, she was excited for supper that night. She told her father all about how fast she was learning and what a great swordsman her brother was. She couldn't think of anything that could break the high she was on that moment—all she could think about was how blessed she was for having received a wonderful life, despite of some misfortunes.

She was glad to see the proud smile on her father's face, the smile that always propelled her to do everything she could do keep it on his face, which is why she couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth when he told her she had to leave.

"_It is for your own good, _muinnín_."_

She would be lying if she said her father didn't aggravate her after what happened. Who wouldn't be, after all? You are told to leave your home—the only place you've ever really known—without a clear explanation other than, "It is for your own good." For a very wise and straightforward man, she didn't expect her father to give a rather vague reason for her sudden departure. If she had to leave because Greenwood—or rather Mirkwood—was getting even sicker, why is she the only one leaving? If this sickness would be a threat to all Wood-elves, wouldn't they all be ordered to leave?

Hearing faint footsteps approaching her chambers, Miniel pushed herself up off her window seat and started pacing around her room. Her gloved hands had clasped themselves tightly behind her back and her eyebrows furrowed rather intensely, forming the infamous crease she had inherited from her father. Her breaths were now erratic, and in that short amount of time she had to wait for the guards to get her, she actually wished all the air would leave her lungs and take her life.

While she was still trying to get to grips with what was about to happen, a soft knock sounded from her door. She immediately halted, her head shooting up and her back straightening unnaturally.

"C-come in," Miniel stammered.

An elf guard emerged from behind the door and bowed sympathetically. "The king is requesting for your presence."

Miniel sighed deeply and nodded for the guard to leave, but what she did not expect was for him to just stand straight and wait for her to leave the room first. She had never needed the guards to escort her around their own halls before. Well, not until she was going through her adolescence. From then on, she thought she didn't need guards walking her around her own home. To see the elf guard just staring straight ahead, waiting for her to walk first, felt strange and out of the ordinary, and it just reminded her that today was no ordinary day.

She took a deep breath and walked ahead of him, her head held up high and her eyebrows now somehow permanently creased. As she walked passed other Silvan elves going about their day, she looked straight ahead, her eyes glistening as she heard numerous farewells from her people. While her hard expression made her look ignorant, inside she wanted to tell them how badly she wanted to stay and serve them for the rest of her life. Even if she didn't know them all personally, seeing them and greeting them daily had become a part of her routine, and she couldn't imagine her day going about without them.

Even at a distance, her father's pacing figure came in to view. He had his hands held firmly behind his back and his shoulders hunched forward with just as much anxiety she had at the moment. This was the most nervous she had seen him all her life, which was saying a lot because she never saw her father nervous. He always stood proud and tall, his robes swaying with elegance every time he moved. Now he just looked like a mess, not even bothering to wear his crown and look polished.

"_Ada_," Miniel said as she ascended up the stairs.

King Thranduil's head snapped towards her, his big blue eyes wider (and more worried) than usual. As she stood before him, he composed himself and nodded to the guards to leave before plastering a gentle smile on his face. "Are you ready for your journey, _lellig_?"

Miniel wasn't sure how to answer his question. She was not one for lying, especially not to her father. She didn't know the point of lying to her father because he was always bound to find out much sooner rather than later.

Without realizing she had been silent for too long, Miniel heard her father sigh and start pacing again. "This is for your own good, Miniel—"

"But how is this for my own good, _Ada_?" Miniel interjected bitterly. She hadn't meant to answer back to him, especially not in an agitated tone, but hearing that sentence again—that sentence that made no sense to her whatsoever—made it impossible to hide her true feelings from him. "You keep telling me it is for my own good without even giving me a reasonable explanation."

Thranduil turned to her with wide eyes again, his face surprised and guilty at the same time. He didn't expect for his daughter to answer back to him. In fact, she never had, not even when he told her she had to leave Mirkwood, but she was right. He had not given her any clear reason as to why she had to leave. As much as he wanted to reveal everything to her, he just felt like now was not the perfect time to do it.

"Mirkwood is sick, Miniel, you know that—"

"Everyone knows that, _ada_, so why am I the only one leaving? If this sickness poses a threat to me, then shouldn't it pose a threat to everyone else as well?" Miniel countered, trying to keep her voice low and leveled.

"But everyone else is not like you, my dear," Thranduil said coolly. His pace had slowed down, and the elegance in which he always moved now returned.

Her whole body shivered upon hearing her father's words. Of all the things he could say to get her to leave, she didn't think he would ever use this on her.

"You told me I wasn't any different," Miniel shot back defensively.

"You and I both know that is not true, my dear."

Tears started to form in her eyes as she tried to process what her father was trying to tell her. It had never occurred to her that her powers had anything to do with her departure. Not having to use them for the last hundred years or so, she had completely forgotten she had them. Aside from that, her father did an excellent job at making her feel like a normal, Silvan elf, which is why she trusted him never to use her powers against her.

"If this is all because of my powers, I am not leaving—"

"You will not disobey me, Miniel. I have given you the normalcy you have craved, and all I ask in return is for you to realize you are not normal at all at this moment."

Miniel couldn't stop the sob she had previously tried to choke back to escape her lips. Yes, she agreed, her father was somewhat greedy and his good deeds always came with a price, but she did not realize that notion applied to her, _his own daughter_.

"But you promised—"

"But this is a promise I must break," Thranduil said as he stopped in front of his daughter. He bent down to her level and held her face in his hands, wiping away the steady flow of her tears with his thumb. It pained him to see her hurt like this, especially since it was his own doing. "Trust me, my dear. I do not want to see you go—"

"Then don't, _ada_!"

"You are too important for the race of elves, Miniel," Thranduil said sternly, hoping one last time for his intentions to get across. "Whatever's causing Mirkwood's sickness is not just some natural calamity. I feel a dark power lingering in the shadows, and it would be best to get you as far away from it as possible. Do you understand?"

He already had her by his first sentence. Even if she hadn't used her powers in the last hundred years, she knew the sacredness of it. She knew she must be protected at all costs. She knew why her father never allowed her to leave their borders, even just to hunt. And now that a dark power could be a possible danger to her, she had no choice but to respect her father's wishes.

Miniel nodded slowly, letting out a resigned sigh as she looked away from her father.

"Miniel," her father said, more tender this time. "I've already lost your mother. I do not want to lose you as well."

At the mention of her mother, she was undeniably taken aback. The last time he ever spoke of her was when she discovered her powers, but even then he kept that conversation brief and concise. Ever since their mother's death, she could only turn to her brother whenever she wondered about her. Now seeing the pain and desperation in his eyes, she knew she had to do this. If not for her, then for him.

"I'm ready for my journey, _ada_," Miniel announced, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Hearing those words from her daughter, the corners of Thranduil's mouth went as high as they could possibly go. She had to leave against her will, but when she did leave, he didn't want her to feel like her departure had no purpose. Now that she was willingly going to leave, he only hoped she would take the next bit of news somewhat well.

Before saying another word, he pulled her in for a tight embrace, something he never gave away to just anybody. Only a few could boast of getting the chance to put their arms around the Elvenking, and his children were two of them. Miniel buried her head in his chest and wrapped her arms around him, allowing herself to be engulfed by his robe. She loved hugging her father while he wore his lavish robes. She always buried herself in them because it made her feel safe—the safest she'd ever been, and she didn't know how she would survive without getting to feel this safe again.

As Thranduil pulled away, he smiled down at his daughter for one lingering moment, fixing her now crooked tiara and kissing her forehead. He then stepped away and ascended up the stairs to his throne, sitting down gracefully and crossing his legs.

"Oh, before you go, there is a slight change of plans," he started, already preparing himself for the worst. "You will not be staying in Rivendell."

Miniel furrowed her brows in confusion. "What do you mean, _ada_?"

"You will only be staying there for a few days, and then you will leave for the Grey Havens."

As a moment of silence passed them, Thranduil closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had always hoped she inherited his calm and cool demeanor, like Legolas did. Unfortunately for him, she was more like her mother—loud and very outspoken when she wanted to be.

"_Ada_, you cannot be serious—"

"I have already spoken to Lord Elrond about it. He will give your company enough supplies to reach Lindon—"

"I am not going to Valinor, _ada_. I'm staying in Rivendell," Miniel said firmly. Her father stared down at her with irritation visible in his big blue eyes. His eyes have always been very expressive, even when he tried to hide his true feelings and intentions. Only Miniel had mastered the art of reading her father; how he managed to get this past her was something that would bother her until she could figure it out.

"This not negotiable. I knew if I told you earlier on, you would never agree to go—"

"How could I agree to this, _ada_! If I go to Valinor, I am never coming back!"

"Do not worry, Miniel. I promise you will return," Thranduil assured her with a bow, just like he always did with his promises. But after breaking the most important promise he had kept, Miniel wasn't sure whether she could trust her father or not.

"And when will that be?" Miniel demanded with a cock of her eyebrow.

"As soon as I learn that this sickness is not a danger to us all. The Valar would never let you stay in Valinor forever, Miniel. Not as long as there are elves still living in Middle-Earth."

"Wonderful," Miniel muttered as she rolled her eyes. Only her father could turn her from a respectable princess into an impolite, stubborn elfling.

"Speak up, dear. You know I hate it when you mumble," Thranduil requested.

"Nothing, _ada_. I will escort myself to the stables," Miniel bowed reluctantly. Without another word, she turned around swiftly, her silvery blond hair fanning out and falling back into place as graceful as her movements were. Before she could make it to the steps, her father stood and requested for her to wait. Instead of turning, she stopped on the top step and waited for her father's last words, which were hopefully just as loving and caring before he ruined the moment with his announcement.

"Remember, keep your gloves on at all times, and do not trust anyone but your own kin. I expect to hear from you when you arrive in Rivendell, and send my regards to your Lord Elrond," Thranduil concluded, his deep voice coming out regal as it always had. "Now you may go."

Miniel sighed deeply at her father's final words. She knew he was never one for very emotional situations, but considering today's significance, she thought he would set aside his regality and tautness for today. She was glad he did, until he decided to stomp all over that moment with his polished, heeled boots.

Bowing her head once more to the king's orders, she made her way down the stairs of the Elvenking's throne room and walked alone to the stables where her brother was waiting. While she walked, it was clear the other elves had heard their final conversation. None of them said a word and only bowed at her presence before continuing their duties. As she reached the stables, she spotted her brother preparing her horse while barking orders at the other elves preparing for their journey.

"Gorondir, take over while I fetch my sister," he ordered to one of the guards.

"Oh, don't worry, Legolas. That won't be necessary," Miniel said with a weak grin on her face. When she caught sight of the pity in her brother's face, she shot him back with a warning look. If there was one thing all three blond elves had in common, it was the fact that they were never pitied, only feared and revered.

Just like how Miniel could read her father, Legolas could read her sister better than anyone else in Middle-Earth. Some may have dismissed her smile as just any normal smile, but he knew better. "He told you, didn't he?"

She couldn't help but sneer at her brother's question instead. "Of course he would tell you. He tells you everything."

Legolas, in turn, chuckled at her response. "He only tells me everything because you always figure out his plans before I do—before he could even tell you, _muinthel_ _nín_."

"How could I not know any of his plans? In just one sentence, he always manages to tell me everything," Miniel said in amusement. "I think that's why he barely spoke to me these past two weeks."

"If only he could actually have anyone to interrogate, I'm positive he would use you to his advantage," Legolas joked as he saddled up her horse. Even as a joke, they both knew it was true. Legolas and their father interrogated people by instilling fear into the hearts of those who would not speak. Miniel, on the other hand, chose a more relaxed approach, befriending the creature until it divulged everything to her.

"Any advantage is the best advantage, after all," Miniel said, mimicking her father's deep voice. She and Legolas chuckled softly as they fastened the saddle around her horse.

As they worked there in silence, her mind rushed with random memories of her and her brother. She remembered the time he first taught her how to shoot a bow, and the first time he snuck her out into the forest to hunt. She even remembered all those times Legolas mocked their father behind his back while he scolded her when she was just a little elfling. Every time she remembered a random event in her life, her brother was always there with her. She had never dared to imagine what life would be like without him, and now she was forced to do just that unfairly. If she had known she was going to sail to the Undying Lands, she would have done everything she could to show her brother just how much she appreciated him.

"I wish you were coming with me," she whispered suddenly as he fastened her cloak around her.

Legolas looked down at her sadly, the ends of his eyebrows shooting upward as his eyebrows wrinkled. "You know one of us has to stay with _ada_. If I could take your place, I would—"

Miniel scoffed at his words. "_Ada_ would never let you go to Valinor. You are too precious to him, as all princes to their kings."

"Do not say that, Miniel," Legolas scolded. "Our father loves us both equally. He just worries more for your safety than mine, and we both know the reason for that."

"Ah, yes. My _gifts_," she said bitterly. "They don't even feel like gifts. They feel like a curse. Just one enormous burden on my shoulders."

"I don't know what you want me to say here," Legolas retorted. "I don't want you to leave here with ill feelings towards our father. This isn't just painful for you. This is painful for all _us_. We all never asked for this. _Ada_ would never send you away to Valinor unless it was absolutely necessary. He's just trying to look out for you, Miniel. Why could you not see that?"

Miniel looked up at his brother in shock. Legolas rarely ever raised his voice at her, and nor did they ever fight. It was strange to see her brother's eyes full of anger and frustration, when all they've ever shown her were love and kindness. But she didn't dwell on this any further when her brother's words had pierced her heart and made her close her eyes in guilt.

She had never once thought of this whole ordeal in their perspectives, especially not her brother's. It had never occurred to her to think that their lives would be different without her around. Even if they had a whole plethora of elf servants to look after them, none of them could ever care for the king and the prince the way Miniel did. No one would be there to remind his brother that he had other duties and tasks to do other than archery training, and no one would especially be there to remind her father not to drink too much of his wine. These were little things only Miniel could do, and without her around, she worried no one would be there to take on her responsibilities.

"I'm sorry, brother," she whispered remorsefully.

"There is nothing to be sorry for—"

"I've been selfish, Legolas. I've spent all this time being angry at _ada _and not enough time worrying about how this could affect you both. I mean, who's going to stop you from doing something dangerous? Or _ada_ from doing something…somewhat immoral—No, who's going to stop _ada_ from drinking wine until he turns into a drunken mess? Because that really worries me, Legolas—"

Legolas laughed heartily at his little sister's concerns. They were very menial, but it was clear to him she enjoyed doing these little things for them. As a princess with very little royal duties, he was sure that doing these things meant a lot to her, and he was definitely certain this meant a whole lot to him and their father.

"Do not worry. It would take days for _ada_ to get drunk, no matter what he drinks," he assured her softly, but this did nothing to wash away the anxiety attack that was currently building in her chest.

"It's just…I wish I had spent more time looking after you and _ada_. Who's going to do that while I'm gone?"

"I will," Legolas affirmed with the most reassuring smile he could muster. "I will take care of us both the way you've always taken care of us."

Miniel hesitated for a moment. If there's one thing her brother was famous for, it was his inability to remember any of his duties. She would always keep a tiny notebook of things he needed to do and made sure he did them. Without her little notebook, she was afraid Legolas would never remember this. But she had no choice.

"Do your promise?" she asked him seriously.

It amused Legolas that a simple thing like this would cause a great deal of stress for his sister. But this would just be one of the many reasons why he would miss her dearly. "I promise."

"You can't break this promise, okay?"

"Trust me, I won't."

With one last lingering look, Miniel finally let a smile grace her lips and she engulfed her brother in a hug. She held onto him as tight as she can, and as long as she can. She didn't know when she would be able to feel safe in his brother's arms again, but she hoped and prayed it would be sooner rather than later.

As they pulled away from each other, an elf guard approached the two and bowed courteously. "I'm sorry to interrupt, my lord, but the princess must now depart."

Miniel smirked at the dark-haired _elleth_ standing before them. She didn't know why there was a need for formalities, but she was happy she going to be with her in her journey. If she couldn't have her own brother escort her to the Undying Lands, better her best friend do it then.

For a fleeting moment, she caught a glimpse of a playful smirk on her lips before Legolas nodded and sent her away to her duties.

"Why do you hate Lothwen?" Miniel suddenly blurted as they watched the elf-maid walk to her horse. She knew now was not the time to tease her brother, but she also knew she needed to do it one last time before she left.

"I do not hate Lothwen. Any friends of my sister's is a friend of mine," Legolas protested, feeling the heat creep up on his neck. He knew where this was going. He wouldn't usually let his little sister tease him mercilessly, but he needed to hear the mischief in her voice one last time.

"It's because she teaches me archery, isn't it?" Miniel smirked with a cock of her eyebrow. "You think it hinders me from becoming a great archer like yourself."

Legolas playfully rolled his eyes at her, but for the nth time, he wasn't denying these claims. "For the last time, I have no ill feelings towards her."

"Oh, this won't be the last time brother, that I'm sure of," Miniel snorted as she moved to her own horse.

"Wait, before you leave, I have a surprise for you." Legolas reached into his coat and pulled out a rectangular object wrapped in leaves.

"Ooh, a gift," Miniel said excitedly as he took the little object from his brother's hands and started unwrapping it. Just as the leather peeked through the green leaves, she instantly knew what was hidden beneath it. "My notebook? You're giving me a notebook of your duties—"

"Before you question the sentimentality of it," Legolas interjected before she had a chance to tease him again. "Open it to the last page,"

Miniel did what she was told and flicked through its pages, smiling every so often as memories of following her brother around flooded in her mind. Each page reminded her of a different day, and remembering the joy she always felt whenever he completed his responsibilities in time, she immediately felt silly for questioning his brother's token. As she reached the last page, she couldn't help but feel her heart swell with gratitude and sorrow. Written down, in very familiar Sindarin letters, read: _"Take care of _ada_ and myself."_

Miniel gasped silently as she ran her fingers over her brother's handwriting. "But how did you—"

"I knew you were angry at _ada_, but it was only a matter of time before you worried about his drinking habits," Legolas joked.

"And your apparent recklessness," Miniel said pointedly as she smiled gratefully at him. She closed the notebook and held it close to her heart. "_Hannon le, muindor_."

"Oh, don't thank me just yet," Legolas said as he reached into his coat once again to pull out a small silver clasp. He reached for one of her hands and gently placed it on her palm. "Our father believes this should belong to you."

Miniel stared down at it in disbelief. She had only ever seen this clasp on her father's dresser in his chambers, and though nobody ever wore it, she knew fully well whom it belonged to. Tucking the notebook under her arm, she slowly removed the current clasp holding her cloak together and replaced it with her mother's.

"_Ada_ would've given it to you himself, but you know how he is when he talks about our mother."

Miniel didn't care for any of her brother's excuses. This clasp was the only other thing their father kept of their mother's belongings, aside from her crown, and she couldn't imagine how difficult it must've been for him to even just hand it to Legolas. It didn't matter to her that he wasn't here to give it away himself. She felt content knowing her father trusted her with one of his prized possessions, and finally, after a brutal two weeks of anger and resentment, Miniel could finally say she understood and accepted her father's wishes.

Just as they were both about to engage in another tight hug, a horn blared through the stables, which signaled her whole company to mount their horses and ready themselves for departure.

Smiling sadly at her brother, she secured her belt and her sword around her waist, as well as tucking the notebook, before she mounted her horse and waited for the second horn to blare.

"Be safe, Miniel," Legolas said, just in time for the horn to sound and their horses to gallop out of the stables and into the forest Miniel would always call her home.

* * *

As the sunlight hit her face that mid-afternoon, Miniel would be lying if she said she did not enjoy travelling outside of Mirkwood. She marveled at how healthy and natural everything was; how vibrant it all looked and felt and she loved every moment of it. Since she was old enough to wander the forest (well, to sneak out and wander), all she ever saw was the sickness and darkness that inhabited their once beloved Greenwood, and she was determined to return it to its former glory. But for now, she just couldn't wait to see what else lay ahead of them.

As her journey progressed from days to weeks to a full month, Miniel had allowed herself to leave her sorrows behind and think positively for their journey ahead.

Having only travelled for a handful of times in her life, she was amazed by the speed at which they were travelling. They had reached Rivendell in a matter of weeks, and as much as she wanted to stay for a longer period of time, they had left on the fourth day and managed to cross River Mitheithel in three days. They were now venturing across the Great East Road, and for once, Miniel had hoped they would slow down so she could enjoy the healthy nature around her.

"Are you sure Legolas does not hate me?" Lothwen asked for the umpteenth time.

"Trust me, _mellon_. Legolas doesn't have it in him to hate," Miniel assured her with an amused smile. "Well, except for dwarves, but I still don't understand why."

"And all elves still don't understand why you don't have any hatred for dwarves whatsoever," Lothwen teased.

"Well, I do not see any reason for us to hate one another," Miniel answered calmly and chose to ignore the eye roll her best friend had just given her.

"We're a thousand miles away from Mirkwood, Miniel. You can drop the princess act," Lothwen joked as she playfully kicked her blond friend's leg.

"Oh, trust me, I want to," Miniel snickered. "But I can't. It's just innate in me."

"Once a royal, always a royal," Lothwen shrugged and smiled at her best friend.

"Unfortunately," Miniel muttered as a comfortable silence fell upon them.

If there's one other person aside from her family who could keep her sadness at bay, it had to be her best friend.

She had first met Lothwen when she helped her sneak back into their palace after disappearing to venture into the forest. She had not expected her father to know of her disappearance that night, but Lothwen had helped her play it off as if she had been there the whole time. The moment she had pretended to find her "wandering near the dungeons" was exactly the moment she knew she had a friend in her, and she was not surprised to find out she would eventually become her best friend.

"If you think Legolas doesn't hate me, what do you think he thinks of me then?" Lothwen suddenly piped up.

Miniel chuckled under her breath and turned to her companion. "Do you want to know what _I _think he thinks of you?

"I was not asking for your opinion, but go on."

"I think he feels threatened by you."

Lothwen turned to her skeptically. "Threatened? Why would he be threatened by me?"

"Because he doesn't want other great archers teaching me archery," Miniel said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Please," Lothwen snorted. "No one's as great an archer as your brother."

"I think Tauriel's just as great as him," Miniel teased, not even having to look at her friend to see the sudden tautness of her demeanor.

"Well, of course." Lothwen's voice was more forced now, and Miniel held back her laughter as her friend spoke. "She would not be Captain of the Guard if she wasn't."

"As much as I love my brother, I don't really know what you see in him."

"What do you mean? I don't see anything in him."

"Oh, Lothwen, I have seen how you look at him, and I don't even understand why you would look at him like that. It's not like his hair is as lovely as mine," Miniel joked as she flicked her silvery blond hair behind her.

"I swear, one day I will chop all your hair off even if it's punishable by banishment," Lothwen warned jestingly as she watched her friend's hair flow in the breeze. There was no denying Miniel had the most beautiful hair in all of Mirkwood, and unfortunately even Miniel knew that. She didn't boast about it, but she had always made this known by always putting emphasis in her long, silvery locks. Lothwen always found this amusing, mostly because she could not find any fault in her friend other than her hair vanity.

"Oh, please Lothwen. You'd be too mesmerized by my hair just in time for me to stop you," Miniel quipped, but Lothwen had to agree.

"Ah, I love how our conversations about your brother always turn into me threatening to cut your hair off," Lothwen said, somewhat charmed by her new discovery.

Miniel giggled at her thoughtful face, but all her laughing ceased when a rancid smell wafted into her nose. She made a guttural sound, alerting her friend and all the other elves in their company. "What is that putrid smell?"

Lothwen noisily sniffed out the air around them, but she had found nothing wrong with its odor. "I don't smell anything."

Miniel's head jerked back in surprise. "Are you sure? It smells like decaying orc in here."

"How do you even know what orc smells like?" Lothwen asked. "You've never even smelled one, let alone seen one."

"I don't know. It just feels like the scent belonged to an orc," Miniel answered. As their company moved forward, the stench grew stronger and stronger. At some point, it had grown to be too much for her, causing her to suddenly pull on her horse's reigns and command it to stop. The sudden whinny of her horse panicked her whole company, and ordered all of their own horses to stop.

"Are you alright, Miniel?" Lothwen asked as she approached her friend.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just…do you not smell that?" Miniel asked frantically as the smell of orc suddenly mixed with the smell of elf. "Do any of you not smell that?"

"My lady, we smell nothing but fresh air and nature," one of the elf guards answered her.

Miniel furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to make sense of the situation. Yes, she may be an unusual elf, but never in her life had she experience anything like this. She could not pinpoint the exact location of the smell, and even if she tried to find it, she wouldn't know where to start.

"Miniel, are you sure nothing's wrong?" Lothwen asked sternly.

"I'm…not sure," Miniel muttered as she circled her horse around her spot to try and locate the awful smell. As she completed one whole rotation, her ears suddenly perked up at the sound of leaves rustling. In fact, all elves were now on high alert when the rustling of leaves was now accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps.

"Arm yourselves," one of the guards warned.

Each and every elven guard produced a bow and an arrow, ready to shoot any threat that will harm the company. Although reluctantly, Miniel did the same, loading her bow and aiming it at any untargeted direction. She had not anticipated this part of their journey—well, she didn't have any reason to. Her father hadn't warned her about potential threats that may come their way, and she hoped he had. That way, she would've had the time to prepare herself if any ambush were to happen. Now, all she could do was hope this wasn't an ambush at all.

The closer the sounds came, the more the elves composed themselves, ready to release their arrows into any potential attacker. They waited patiently, focusing on the nearest sound they could hear. As the rustling grew prominently louder, Miniel's anxiety reached her peak, only to be let down by a small group of rabbits emerging from a bush and scampering off in fear.

Miniel sighed with relief, but the other elves knew better. There would be no reason for them to scamper off like that unless there was someone, or something, scaring them away.

And that's when it happened. Miniel released the only arrow she would draw at this battle, before she was knocked off her horse and fell side ways on the ground. The impact of the fall left her motionless and disoriented.

_What was happening? _Her mind continued to race with this question as she heard multiple shrieks of pain. Her heart beat faster than ever before and tears started to form around her eyes. But then she realized, that shrill, grotesque shriek could not have come from an elf. No, it couldn't have. If it wasn't an elf, then what was it—

As if her mind was being read, a disgusting figure dropped beside her, an arrow shot right into its forehead. Her eyes went wide with fear as she realized what was attacking them.

_Orcs_.

The sight of black liquid trickling down the side of the orc's face was enough to get her on her feet and start moving. Unfortunately for her, her bow had been split in half by the orc that landed beside her, and she was forced to pull out her sword and aim at the nearest disgusting creature that dared to attack her. But before she could even start wielding her sword, she was pushed out of the carnage by Lothwen and was led deeper into the woods.

"Lothwen, what are you doing?" Miniel asked breathlessly. She did not want to be _that_ princess, but without her bow, she definitely was that princess.

"You have to keep running, Miniel. Orcs would never venture this far west unless they were after something, and judging by their numbers, they are clearly after you," Lothwen warned as she pushed her forward to run. "Please, just set your pride and integrity aside for this once and _run_."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be fine, _mellon_. Now go—"

"Wait," Miniel protested as she pushed her friend's hands off her. She pulled her quiver off arrows over her body and shoved them in Lothwen's hands. "Promise I'll see you again?"

Lothwen squeezed her friend's hands gently. "I promise. Now go! Run!"

Without another word, Miniel darted deeper into the forest, only looking back to catch a glimpse of her best friend climbing up into a tree. She ran as fast as her long, Elven legs would take her. Lothwen had never told her when to stop, or even where to stop, so she just kept running. She ran until the sounds of death were nothing but faint whispers in her ears, and even when all she could hear now were her erratic breaths and her soft sobs against the whistling trees, she still never stopped running.

* * *

**Soooooooo? How was it? I read this a hundred times and edited it before I posted so I'm really dying to know what you guys think of it! I'm not going to lie, I'm not even halfway through chapter 2, but schoolwork let up a bit so I'm hoping to finish it by this week, but I'll probably post it way later, when I'm done with other chapters, so I wouldn't run out of things to post. ;) I really hoped you enjoyed because I'm so excited for this one!**


	2. Rotten Luck

**I am so, so, so, so, so, sorry I haven't updated this story in two months! I honestly tried, believe me, but schoolwork was just a nightmare. Every single day was just a new pile of homework that couldn't wait to be finished. Anyway, it's finally my term break yaaaaaaaay so I can finally write, write, write! I'm hoping to finish at least until the 'An Unexpected Journey' part of the story, but I hope I get to cover the two movies before BOFTA comes out. *sobs* Thank you for all of those who favorited, followed and reviewed this! I actually wasn't expecting it haha. Anyway, I won't let you guys wait. Here's chapter two. Enjoy!**

* * *

Weeks have passed since the company of Thorin Oakenshield left the quiet little town of Hobbiton in the Shire and were on their way to Erebor to reclaim their homeland.

While the dwarves have been nothing but hospitable towards their burglar (well, their own version of hospitable, that is), he still found himself yearning for his books and his armchair and his now empty pantry, which he reminded himself to fill up when—if he comes back. He just hopes that if he does these dwarves wouldn't be around to give him the biggest anxiety attack he'd ever experience.

As Bilbo's mind wandered back to Bag End, the company was now venturing forward through the Great East Road, obviously antsy from the boredom that now overtook their party.

Their morning had started out pretty silent, and unfortunately for them, it ended up setting the mood for the rest of the day. As much as they longed for someone to break the silence, none of them dared to utter a single word. Not even Gandalf, who had resorted to smoking his pipe weed rather excessively. In fact, all of them had turned to their pipes since it was evident that today would be the most uneventful day of their lives. If anyone had ever tried to hunt them, the smell of their pipe weed and the cloud of smoke that loomed over their heads would instantly give them away, and Thorin would not be happy to know his company could be so easily hunted.

As morning turned to noon, a few of the dwarves had found their own ways to occupy themselves while the rest of the company chose to endure the silence unmoving. One of the dwarves that had chosen to entertain himself was Bombur who kept stuffing his face discreetly with whatever food he had tucked away in his clothes. There was also Bofur, who ended up humming random melodies to himself, and Gloin, who thought this would be the most opportune moment to count how much silver he still had. Ori had stuck his nose in his book just like he always did, sketching what seemed to be the path right in front of them, and Fili had sought amusement in flicking bitter-tasting berries at Kili, who kept whipping his head back and forth whenever he felt something hit his head.

Unfortunately, four out of five dwarves had either finished task or easily got bored again. The last man standing between all five of them was Fili. After unwittingly picking a bunch of dark colored berries that tasted more vile and bitter than any medicine Oin had forced down his throat, he had concluded that these were inedible, and decided to put them into better use, like poking fun at his brother.

He had never really considered his brother to be unwise; just hastier than the rest of the dwarves. Sometimes, this worked to Kili's advantage, and sometimes, it worked to his. Like this very moment, when Kili reflexively swatted at his face and hit himself in the nose. Fili's shoulders shook violently as he tried to hold back the laughter rising in his throat. What made this task even harder was Kili muttering a combination of Khuzdul curses under his breath.

"Aye, lad," Nori piped up as he turned to the two Durin heirs in disgust. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Low chuckles had begun to escape Fili's lips, but after all the blood rushed to his little brother's face, he just couldn't stop his laughter from erupting anymore. He finally let himself explode into a loud fit of laughter that even caused the birds to fly away. Fili doubled over on his pony, and the only things that were keeping him on it were his arms around its neck.

While Fili tried his best not to slip off his ride, Kili just glared at him with his eyebrows arched higher than usual and his eyes turning into narrow slits. Usually, when Fili pulled a prank on him, we would already have a slew of words ready to insult this older brother, but this particular moment caused his mouth to stay shut in a deep frown as he waited for his brother to stop laughing. He wasn't sure how long Fili had been cackling over his apparent embarrassment, but he was determined to get the last word in before the company fell into another complete silence. The words were forming on the tip of his tongue, ready to put his brother in his place, when he heard the crunching of twigs and leaves under a set of hooves. He turned his gaze to the direction of the sound, and was surprised to see his uncle marching down their way on his pony with the death glare that always plagued his mind during times of stupidity.

Of all the things that would provoke their uncle to the point where he is forced to march at them, in all his regality, with his infamous death glare, Kili would have never thought this would be the moment. He was genuinely scared at first; he actually thought Thorin was out to get both of them. But when he saw his eyes fixed on the blonde dwarf beside him, who was still apparently laughing his butt off, Kili couldn't help but let the smirk form on his face.

As Fili's laughter started to die down, he picked himself back up again and straightened his body back to its previous regal stance. What he expected to see was his little brother glaring at him with a tomato-red face and heavyset frown, not his uncle standing before him with a look that could literally kill. Fili let out a loud gulp as Thorin commanded his pony to step forward and leaned in closer to look him straight in the eyes.

"Are you done laughing?" Thorin asked, his deep, gruff voice cutting through the tension that was now filling up the forest.

Fili was speechless. In all the years Thorin had scolded him, he had never wished to be yelled at until this moment. He wished Thorin just screamed at him instead of looking down at him with that look of death he never wanted to see every again.

"Sorry," Fili mumbled.

Thorin's eyes narrowed even more as his nephew—his first heir to the throne—darted his eyes in every which way except forward.

"We are on a serious journey. I did not agree to your incessant _begging_ just so the two of you could serve as a liability to this company."

Thorin turned his gaze to Kili for a fleeting moment before giving Fili one last lingering look and galloping back to the front of the line. Without another word, he led the company down the path, with everyone becoming more attentive and less bored.

Gandalf fell back to where the two princes were sulking. No doubt, Fili was downcast, and as a young dwarf, no matter which bloodline he belonged to, he thought Thorin's words were too harsh on the lad.

"Don't mind him, Fili, my dear boy," Gandalf assured him. "Both of you are not liabilities. In fact, you are his greatest assets. Being young and sharp and what not."

"Yeah, I guess," Fili mumbled with a discouraged heart. On a good day, he would let Gandalf's compliment inflate his ego and brag about it to the much older dwarves, but today was not a good day, unfortunately.

Gandalf, unsure of what to say next, patted Fili on the back instead, and gave him an encouraging smile before treading back to the front of the line. Fili watched Gandalf's large horse trot along the side of the line and slow down just right behind Thorin, who sat proud and tall—and aggravated—on his pony. He gritted his teeth at the sight of his uncle—the stubborn, arrogant, angry sight of him—and looked away instantly before he'd regret coming to this journey in the first place.

"Hey." Fili heard a whisper coming from his left. He slowly turned his head and was met by the sympathetic smile on his little brother's face. "Gandalf's right, you know. I wouldn't take uncle's words too seriously."

_Of course you wouldn't. You're not next in line for the throne. _

"I'll try not to," Fili assured his younger brother with a half-hearted smile.

"Oh, you won't try," Kili commanded as he straightened his back and looked forward, sneaking a smirk in to cheer his brother up. "You will."

Fili raised an eyebrow at his little brother's annoyingly charismatic ways—only to stop himself from falling for it as well—but Kili wiggling his thick, bushy eyebrows were enough to crack a smile on his face.

"You know," Kili continued, "hats off to your prank, but maybe if you didn't laugh like, well, a dwarf, maybe, just maybe, you could've gotten away with it."

Fili was just about to open his mouth and let another loud fit of laughter escape, but he fortunately managed to clamp his mouth shut and let his shoulders shake up and down instead. "Well, maybe if you weren't so easy to target, I wouldn't have had to do the prank in the first place."

"Well, maybe if you weren't such an imbecile, you wouldn't have picked those disgusting berries in the first place."

"Maybe if you actually had a brain, you wouldn't have _told_ me to those berries were edible."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so—"

"Oh, for the love of Aulë, quiet you two!"

A round of sh's also made its way around the company as the brothers hunched their shoulders forward in an attempt to make themselves look smaller. As they waited for the older ones to stop sending them glares and dirty looks, Fili and Kili both glanced at each other, the corners of their lips stretching wider and wider as they tried their best not to let out another fit of laughter erupt from their throats.

* * *

Hours had passed, and the sun had begun to hide itself. The harsh sun was now being replaced by a cool breeze that tickled their beards and the skin left on their faces. By the time dusk was setting, they had found a clearing near by a cliff, with a hollowed out rock on the opposite side. Without question, Thorin ordered his company to start unpacking and prepare dinner. As each dwarf jumped off their ponies, their grunts formed one whole collective sound of relief as they stretched their knees and arms to smooth out any cricks in their bones.

"Bofur, Bifur, look after the ponies," Thorin began as he listed off all the duties one by one. "Gloin, get a fire going. Bombur, you know what to do."

Bombur nodded determinedly as he scampered off to their food supply and made a mental picture of what was to be served for dinner. It was nothing extravagant, but the image of food helped speed the cooking process.

"Fili, Kili, get more firewood. What we have left won't last the night."

Fili and Kili nodded at their uncle, but not without Fili and Thorin sharing an intense gaze that lingered even after they parted ways.

"Are you seriously still mad at uncle?" Kili asked as they disappeared into the forest.

"I'm not mad at him," Fili corrected. "But how would you act around a person who just called you burden?"

"I wouldn't think anything by it," Kili said smugly as he waved a twig at his brother's face. "And besides, he didn't mean any of that. Gandalf's right, you know. It would be a glorious moment to reclaim your homeland alongside your future heirs, but if you knew they had skills no one else had, wouldn't you take advantage of that?"

Kili had a point, and Fili wasn't sure whether he was ready to admit that to the younger Durin, or to himself for that matter. As he watched his little brother cautiously stare at a rabbit (for which he did not know how developed a fear of) standing on a nice piece of branch, Fili half-smiled as he thought about all those times Kili proved himself to be smarter than he thought. Well, not this particular moment when he retracted his arm once the rabbit stared back at him, but he _did_ have his moments. Whenever Fili pondered over these moments—moments much greater than all of his own moments combined—he always questioned why he was the first-born.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why you're not next in line to the throne."

Kili scoffed at his brother's words, but not without squealing for a fleeting moment when the rabbit finally hopped off to Aulë knows where. "Have you forgotten how reckless and irresponsible and forgetful I am?"

"No, but your recklessness, lack of responsibility, and forgetfulness have all turned you into a hero at one point or another," Fili said with a little pride swelling in his chest. He looked away from his brother's intense gaze as he piled branches and sticks in his arms.

"Kings are not temporary heroes."

"Yet, a true king knows what is best for his people."

Kili smiled at his older brother's futile attempts to prove to him that he didn't have what it takes to be the rightful heir to the throne. There is nothing in this world Fili could say that could change his mind. His brother truly did exhibit the traits of a king, even when he's only picking up a bunch of wooden sticks. There was only one word that could describe his older brother, and it was regal.

"And that is exactly the type of person you are."

Fili looked up from his pile of sticks and branches and came face-to-face with his brother. He found solace in the warmth and encouragement Kili's eyes had to offer. If there was anyone Fili couldn't stand to live without, it would definitely be his brother.

"Fili, I love you, but you have to stop being a pain in the arse and doubting yourself. If you're worried about how uncle might look at you different after today, then you're an idiot. If anything, he's finally looking at you like an ordinary dwarf, not an heir that needs to be trained and groomed into a fine king, which something I know you hate."

"Thanks, Kili—"

"Oh, I'm not done," Kili interjected, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "You're going to want to hear the wisdom in my words."

"Right, right," Fili nodded with an amused smile on his face. It was times like these that Kili's blind arrogance really cheered him up.

"Stop worrying about trying to act and look like the next King Under the Mountain, because when the time comes—or even way before that—it's going to come naturally to you, and everyone will know and understand just exactly why you deserve to be our king."

The older durin smiled from ear to ear as he let his brother's words sink in. Kili was right. What was there to worry about? His people needed a king who was sure of himself, who could give them hope when they thought all hope was lost. He could be that king. And when the time comes, he _will_ be that king. What he once secretly felt was burden was now a great honor for him, an honor he will not and shall not tarnish with his doubts and—

"Did you hear that?"

Fili snapped out of his internal pep talk and raised an eyebrow at his brother. Kili, on the other hand, was frantically whipping his head around, looking for the source of the noise he just heard.

"Hear what?" Fili asked.

"I heard something. It sounded like a…a…shriek of some sort."

"A shriek—"

"Shhhhh!"

Kili clamped his hand down his brother's mouth and turned his head in every direction his neck would allow. As Fili mumbled obscenities about his brother's rancid-tasting glove, a scream could be heard from a distance.

"Don't tell me you didn't hear that," Kili said with every bit of adrenaline slowly pulsing in his veins.

Fili pushed off his dirty hand from his mouth and picked up the firewood he was forced to drop when Kili suddenly force-fed him his hand. "Kili that was probably nothing. C'mon, let's head back."

Another scream echoed in the distance, and this time, it wasn't as far as they thought it was.

"Fili, that was a _woman_ screaming. Dwarf, man or even elf, we have to save her."

"And what if all that screaming is just a decoy? What if a pack of orcs is luring you into an ambush?"

"What if it isn't?"

"Then we'll never know!"

Kili let out a frustrated sigh as he watched his brother walk the opposite direction. "Are you seriously going to let this woman suffer because of your own paranoia?"

Fili turned around with a deadpan expression on his face, but underneath it all, he could feel his heart getting heavier and heavier every second they aren't doing something to help the poor girl.

But what if it _really_ was an ambush? As much as he would like to brag about his fighting skills, he wasn't _that_ stupid enough to get him and his brother killed.

_But_ what if it really was a damsel in distress? If there's any belief dwarves hold dear in their culture, it's that women are precious gifts from the Valar. If this was indeed a damsel, Fili would never forgive himself if anything were to happen to her.

The blonde dwarf let out frustrated grunt and neatly set aside the firewood they picked up. "Fine, we will go over there and check it out. But first, we need a plan—"

The shriek was nearer this time and much louder than previous ones. The alarmed look on Kili's face was enough to give Fili an idea of what was going through his little brother's reckless mind, and he already had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

"I don't think she can wait for a plan, Fee," Kili decided as he searched for the source of the sound.

"Then what do you suggest? We just go in there and—"

"Exactly."

Without another word, Kili dashed off into the trees, leaving his older brother to marinade in his own panic and frustration.

_This is exactly why Kili is not next in line to the throne._

* * *

She couldn't believe it. How could they have found her? She had made a conscious effort to mask her scent as much as possible, and she couldn't figure how the orcs managed to pick up it up.

It was all down to fight or flight, and Miniel wasn't stupid enough to confuse bravery with overconfidence. She ran, as fast and as lightly as she could. She didn't know how long she was running for, but all she knew was they were still behind her. She could feel them, and hear their noisy footsteps thumping on the marshy ground of the forest.

_Don't panic, Miniel, just keep running and you'll be alright,_ she assured herself, but that was easier said than done. Every footstep she heard caused her heart to skip a beat, and she didn't know how long she had left until she let fear paralyze her.

As she kept running, she could see a huge slab of rock up a head. It was still a bit far, but she could hear faint sounds of deep voices laughing and shouting at the top of their lungs. It didn't take long for her to put two and two together and realize there was someone camping up a head.

She felt relief overtake her body as this realization dawned on her. It was enough to motivate her to run faster, even if she could feel her lungs giving out. As the light drew closer and closer, she could already feel the safety she desperately sought after since the orcs attacked her company.

But of course, this past week, luck was not on her side, and before she could finally breathe a sigh of relief, a group of fallen trees blocked her way. She could have easily gone left, or right, but the odds of running into orcs were just a bit too high for her liking. She stood there, frozen in panic. Was this really how her life was going to end? Brutally tortured and slaughtered by disgusting, filthy orcs?

Never had she once ever felt that painful pang right at the pit of her stomach. Whatever she felt when her father told her she had to leave home could never compare to what she felt right now, and for the first time in her life, she finally knew what it was like to be paralyzed with fear.

As her hope started to slowly fade away with every footstep that came closer, tears brimmed her eyes.

"I thought you didn't want me dead!" she yelled up at the sky, even thought she knew fully well that this could give away her location.

_So what? I'm as good as dead, anyway_, she thought bitterly. Giving herself away would just speed up the process.

"I thought I was important to the race of elves!" she shouted again, in desperate attempts to taunt the Valar. "If I was so important, you'd actually get your butts off your thrones and save me here!"

Well, she didn't know for sure if they sat on thrones, but if there's one thing she did know, this couldn't be the end of her life. Right? If every creature on Middle Earth had a fixed path created by the Valar, this couldn't be hers. They couldn't have given her these powers just so she could be massacred by orcs. There's just no way.

Miniel looked up at the sky with one last lingering hope for some divine intervention or miracle to save her from her impending doom. All she needed was a sign that told her everything was going to be all right, and that this wasn't the end. She stared at the orange-pink sky for any good omens, but sadly, all there was were clouds fading and birds rushing across the sky.

With one last ounce of hope leaving her body, Miniel sighed in defeat and allowed her knees to give in and collapse. She fell on the ground, as graceful as ever, and even she herself knew her grace would eventually save her behind from any bruises if she were ever to come out of this alive. She expected to hit the ground softly, but as her body came in contact with the soft soil of the earth, she felt a rectangular object poking her butt.

"What the—"

She carried herself onto her knees and felt around for the mysterious object. After a few pats on her belt, she pulled out the little rectangular object and let out a faint whimper. She flipped through the pages of her notebook. She scanned through all of her to-do lists and reminders, letting her tears stain the pages with watered down ink. As she came to the last page—the one Legolas wrote on—she finally let out the sob that continuously threatened to leave her mouth. She stared down at his brother's neat cursive handwriting, and allowed herself to let all of her memories rush in all at once.

Once her last memory of them—the day she had to leave—faded into the defeat she felt at this moment, she knew she couldn't die. Not tonight. Not while her family is expecting her to be alive.

As she got to her feet and tucked the notebook away, she suddenly heard grunting and grumbling from every direction her head could turn. She hadn't realized they were getting closer, and she wanted to curse herself for temporarily letting her guards down and drowning out her voice of reason.

"Oh my, what do I do? What do I do?" she chanted as she jumped up and down. The adrenaline was now pumping in her veins, and she had completely forgotten how to calm her nerves down. "Okay, what would Legolas do? What would Legolas do?"

Miniel looked around and quickly tried to come up with a plan. It didn't even have to be a clever plan; she just needed a plan to get her out of there.

When she turned back to the pile of fallen trees, she took notice of a rabbit hopping and climbing on it, as if trying to get away from something, and right then and there, she literally smacked her forehead for not immediately thinking of climbing over the logs.

Without a moment's hesitation, she ran to it and started climbing. As she pulled herself up, one log at a time, she immediately regretted not taking training as seriously as her brother did. She wouldn't know any other elf that couldn't climb over this in a matter of seconds, or in fact think of this plan the minute he was faced with this obstacle. She wanted to curse her father for keeping her sheltered and skill-less, but now was really not the time to think such thoughts.

With every log she managed to surpass, she could feel the taste of victory and freedom as the peak grew nearer. She couldn't wait to jump to the ground and lie down for just a second, just to catch her breath. She was finally on the last log, and she lifted one leg over it, ready to escape these vile creatures, when all of a sudden, she felt a hand tightly grip her ankle.

She mustered all of the courage she had to peer down and saw an orc smiling at her menacingly as it tugged at her leg to pull her down. She couldn't help but let out a scream—any frightened, inexperienced elf would do so (she hoped)—but when the fleeting moment of fear finally passed, she unlatched her other leg and started kicking the orc incessantly in the face, just until it would let go. Eventually, it did, and she was relieved to know that just one more push was enough to get her to safety.

But of course, she had to learn that everything didn't go her way, and she learned that lesson through her foot slipping off a moss-covered area and sending her tumbling down back to the ground, where approximately 6 orcs were waiting for her like a pack of wolves desperately hungry for a deer carcass.

Curse her rotten luck.

* * *

**Soooooooo, how was it? :-) Sorry if this was more of Fili's existential crisis than Fili and Kili goofing off, but don't worry. A lot of that will happen in future chapters hehe. I hope you guys enjoyed! And I hope my absence for two months didn't make you lose interest for this!**

**By the way, I'm going to take down the previous chapters when I post the new chapter (hopefully tomorrow), so read it or save it now if you don't want it to get lost haha. Just a heads up in case you'd look for it. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Miniel from Lórien

**So sorry this took so long! Having a hard time getting inspired to write, andIendedupbingewatchingTVshowsandmoviesforthepastweekssorry. Anyway, here's the chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! **

* * *

Kili ran. He ran as fast as his stubby legs could take him.

Every time he heard a shriek or a grunt or a plea, his pace automatically quickened. He had only ever come across a few damsels in his life, and all of them didn't sound as terrible and grotesque as this one. He wasn't even sure what he expected to find. Was somebody attacking her? Was she stuck under a pile of rocks or logs or something of that ilk? Maybe Fili was right. Maybe this _was_ a trap. The only way he could find out was by following the sound of her voice, and he just hoped it wasn't as serious as it sounded.

Well, actually, deep down, a part of him wanted it to be serious. They were on a _journey_, and he wanted it to be a great one. What's a great journey without saving a damsel?

The more he ran, the louder her voice was, and the faster his heart thumped in his chest. This was it. He was finally going to come face-to-face with, well, whatever it was that was causing the distress.

He unsheathed his sword and jogged quietly as figures finally came into view—figures armed with swords and daggers and bows. They were crowding around something—someone—and speaking in a language he had never heard before. But the pitch of their voices was unmistakable. Those cries and sneers could only belong to one creature, and it was the last thing he thought he'd encounter on this journey.

Fili _was_ right. When he stopped just behind a clump of bushes, he realized he needed a plan, and by the sound of the blood-curdling scream that pierced his ears, he knew he needed one _pronto_.

* * *

Miniel screamed in agony as an orc slowly traced a wound across her forearm. Having rarely been wounded before, pain was something she never learned to tolerate. The knife stopped just right above her pulse, but in that moment, she just wished they would get it over it. She didn't know why they were after her specifically. If they only wanted to kill a bunch of elves, they would've been contented with her company.

"_Mirdautas vras_," purred an orc, hovering a blade over Miniel's abdomen.

Her breath hitched in her throat when it slowly ran the blade up her torso, taunting her every now and then with light pokes to her chest. They all roared in laughter every time a whimper escaped her lips, wiping her tears away with mock sympathy.

_Don't panic, Miniel, don't panic. You will get out of this_, she assured herself, but she wasn't entirely convinced of her own words. As the orcs talked over her in a heated discussion, she desperately forced her mind to come up with a plan. Every time she felt like giving up, her notebook bore a hole through her clothes. She could feel it burn her skin, an intense sensation that wouldn't go away. Even if everything seemed hopeless, she could never lose hope. She was a princess after all. Losing hope was not a skill associated with princesses.

While she focused on concocting an escape plan, the orcs were clearly finished deciding on a plan of their own. Once they all nodded in unison, Miniel's eyes widened in panic as they all turned to her with determined expressions on their faces.

They spread her arms out to her side while her legs were forced apart. She took a sharp intake of breath as she felt hands maliciously rake over her body. It took her sword, along with all the daggers on her belt, and the other hidden ones in her boots. This had been the longest 5 minutes of her life. She had never felt so violated, and she couldn't do anything about it. She felt like every little bit of her dignity had been stripped away from her, and she didn't know whether she'd be the same right after—if she survived at all. They tossed her weapons in a pile beside them, and while the clanking of the metal caused her heart to beat faster, the sound that came next caused it to stop beating entirely.

She could hear even the smallest of rips as an orc carelessly flipped through the pages of her notebook. It stared at it with a confused look on its face as it tried to decode the Elvish text. When its mind couldn't wrap around the foreign language, it shoved the notebook in the face of another orc, frantically speaking in a worried manner.

"_An ngell nîn_. Do not touch that," Miniel pleaded calmly. She stared up at the sky, the orange hue slowly turning into a dark blue. A few stars had started appearing, and Miniel closed her eyes as the panic inside her gradually turned into anger. "Please, please, _please_, let go of that."

The orcs blatantly ignored her desperate pleas to relinquish one of her two prized possessions, and it just added fuel to the rage that was bound to come out of her. The two orcs continued to argue and smack each other as they decided want to do with it. They couldn't understand the Sindarin language, yet they had zero respect and sympathy whatsoever. The only solution that seemed plausible to them was to destroy it.

And destroy it they did.

They threw the notebook to the ground, and alternately, they repeatedly hacked the rectangular object.

"No, please, don't!" Miniel cried as she once again thrashed and struggled under the hands of the orcs. "Stop it! _Please_ stop!"

The orcs yelled at her to keep still and stop moving, but as they continued to chop up her notebook, her movements grew bigger and more hysterical. It was getting harder for the orcs to keep her limbs down, and eventually, she managed to free herself push aside one of the orcs 'having fun' with her notebook. She quickly took it in her arms, gathering together what was left of it. One by one, as she gathered the small pieces of paper together, a strong force suddenly pulled her shoulders backward, making her land flat on her back. The pieces of her notebook came flying everywhere, with parchment paper floating about like confetti.

"_Lul Gijak-Ishi_!" an orc cried, pointing a blade right in Miniel's face.

Her head was forced back and a rough hand held her neck down with a tight grip, closing the pathway to her lungs. The rest of the orcs held down each of her limbs again, but this time, she did not dare to struggle.

The one holding the knife withdrew its weapon, and stood above her with its legs on either sides of her body. It crouched down to her face and yelled what seemed to be obscenities, judging by the fury it seemed to exhibit, and the rate it was talking. At one point, it seemed to have asked Miniel a question, and the orc holding down her neck finally let go and lifted her head up by the hair. The one in front of her waited expectantly for an answer, but she did not care to give it a proper one.

"Rot in hell, orc filth!" she exclaimed, spitting in the face of the orc.

Without warning, the orc let out a guttural scream, furiously wiping at his face and slapping Miniel across hers. She didn't have time to process the initial shock the slap had caused once she saw the orc's knife raised up in the air, waiting to penetrate her skin and stab her heart in one swift motion.

_This was it, _she thought. _I really am going to die tonight. _

Miniel couldn't have prepared herself for this moment even if she saw her own future. She wasn't ready to go yet. She had places to see, people to meet, a family to take care of. She hadn't even lived to be a thousand yet. But if this was her time, she had to accept it quickly, because it would only take a second for this orc to stab her chest and take her life.

Miniel shut her eyes and waited for the worst—for the blood and the heaving and the most painful several minutes before her heart would finally give in and stop beating.

She waited, and wait, and waited, and waited, but the worst never came. Instead, she heard the loudest shriek to have ever pierced her eardrums.

Miniel's eyes shot open as the orc fell back on top of her legs and lay completely still. The other orcs scrambled to their feet and armed themselves with whatever weapon they held first. Miniel sat up immediately and studied her surroundings, finding five orcs frantically looking for the source of the attacker, and one orc with an arrow through its chest.

She pushed it off in disgust and feverishly backed away, forcing her mind and body to compose themselves before scrambling to her feet for a weapon. On the pile beside her, she picked up her sword, quickly yet clumsily unsheathing it, and turned around ready to fight.

Except all of the orcs lay dead with arrows shot through their heads and their chests except one. Realizing their prisoner had risen and armed herself, the orc let out a deafening battle cry before charging head-first toward the princess.

Miniel was unsure of what to do; she had never attacked anyone or anything before. She didn't know whether to just wait for the orc to come close so she could stab it, or run head-first as well and wield her sword before it attacks her. Needless to say, she had never prepared herself for any moment like this, even when she trained with her brother. All she could do now was pray to the gods in the hopes that her first swing would kill it.

Or it would run right through her outstretched sword and into its own demise. If there's one thing Miniel was guilty of, it was overestimating these orcs' intelligence, and now she just felt silly as she pushed off the orc along with her sword and collapsed to the ground with a huge sigh of relief.

_Finally. No more attackers_, she thought. She had never felt so tired in her life, and that's saying something for an elf. She lay on her back and covered her eyes with her hands just to regain her energy for a few minutes.

In just a minute, Miniel could feel herself drifting off into a dreamless sleep, but when her muscles relaxed and her breathing started to slow down, her ears pricked up. She could hear the rustling of leaves and the creaking of tree branches, which could only mean one thing: another attacker.

Miniel once again scrambled to her feet and reached for her sword, nervously and patiently waiting the attacked to reveal itself. She stood in that clearing, dead center, slowly circling the area and guessing which tree it'll come out of. She heard another set of rustling and creaking, she had found its position, and with one swift motion, she turned around and came face-to-face with a little creature landing on the ground with a thump and a grunt. Noticing it wasn't an orc, Miniel relaxed herself a little bit, but still kept her sword outstretched threateningly.

"Who are you?" Miniel demanded. She knew he was definitely a dwarf; there was no doubt about it. But she was having second thoughts, because what kind of dwarf didn't have any beard at all?

"Don't worry, I mean you no harm—"

"And how do I know you are telling the truth?"

The dwarf grinned at her smugly as he dropped his bow and proceeded to unsheathe his sword. "Because if I wanted you dead, I would have shot you down by now."

"Then explain the sword," Miniel said as she watched him slowly pull out the rest of his sword.

"Relax," he chuckled. "I'm just unarming myself, to prove to you that I'm not going to hurt you."

Miniel narrowed her eyes at him, debating whether to take his word for it or not. Well, he did unarm himself, which says something since dwarves are generally suspicious of things.

_But just because he trusts you, doesn't mean you should trust him. _

"And that's all you have? A bow and a sword?" Miniel asked as she stepped closer toward the odd dwarf and used the tip of her sword to check if his coat had any other draggers he could be hiding.

"Look," he said with his arms up in the air in surrender. "I heard you screaming and I came to rescue you from these orcs. Those are my intentions, and my intentions only, so I would appreciate it if you'd drop the sword."

"Are there any more of you?"

And immediately after asking that question, her ears perked up once again, but this time she heard loud footsteps and heavy breathing. But they weren't just one set of footsteps, there were 3.

No, 7—9, wait no, _14_?

"Are there others with you?" Miniel asked anxiously. She accidently poked her sword at the dwarf's abdomen, but she let her shoulders slump in relief when she saw she hadn't put too much pressure on it.

The dwarf stared at her with a hesitant gaze, but his silence was enough to answer her question. His brown eyes held her own with an intensity that could match her father's, and for a moment, her grip on her sword loosened and her own stiff features relaxed into a calm demeanor. She found safety in the way he looked at her, his eyes like pools of chocolate that she'd let herself drown in.

The footsteps and heavy breaths grew louder and louder, and for a second, she drowned them out with his brown chocolate eyes, but when his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes grew more intense, she finally pulled herself away from him and snapped back to reality.

"I'm sorry for this," he said in a frenzy, without giving her much time to prepare herself for the shove he gave as he grabbed a hold of her sword. In a split second, Miniel's eyes closed shut with a jolt as she heard the clanging of metal on metal, and once her eyes shot open, her heart raced at the sight before her.

The brown-haired dwarf had stopped another one from piercing a sword through her body, but that wasn't what baffled her mind. In front of her were 12 other dwarves, plus a tall figure in gray robes and a much smaller creature with big, hairy feet. When she asked if there were more of them, she hadn't expected them to be _this_ many.

"Kili, what are you doing?" the other, much older dwarf huffed as he shot Miniel a glare that could make all creatures of Middle-Earth drop dead.

"Uncle, you have nothing to worry about. She is just an innocent elf," the one named Kili assured him, but his uncle clearly wasn't having it.

"Elves are not _innocent_," the older dwarf fumed. "They are vile and dishonorable, and they do not deserve your sympathy."

The older dwarf averted his gaze to Miniel, whose own face contorted into an offended scowl. _Elves? Vile and dishonorable creatures? Well, you're one to talk,_ she mused in contempt. If there's anyone vile and dishonorable in this world, it was was just about ready to push Kili aside and run her mouth to defend her race when the tall old man in gray caught her attention and shook his head.

"Elves don't, but women do," Kili shot back with the same intensity his uncle had. "Elf or not, she needed help and I was there, ready to give it. I apologize if this has offended you, uncle, but no woman deserves to be tortured and violated by filthy, disgusting orcs. I trust you would do the same if you were in my position, correct?"

Kili was afraid he overstepped his boundaries. If he had to recall when he had done it, it would probably be when he took her sword and stopped his uncle from wielding his own. He had never answered back to his uncle before, _ever_, and this was the worst way to do it. Even if he held his ground, he was trying his best not to crumble under Thorin's glares.

But as much as he loved his uncle, he wasn't going to turn his back on the principles he taught him, even if he had to defend it against the very man who instilled them in him.

On the other side of this dilemma, Thorin was absolutely seething. Contrary to what was happening, he was really proud of Kili for stepping up and defending a helpless woman. He just wasn't happy that this woman happened to be an elf—an elf that resembled the very king that betrayed his kin and left them to their deaths. This fueled his anger even more, but he couldn't lose his composure. Kili was right, and he wasn't going to let some elf make him look like the bad guy.

"Correct," he muttered, dropping his sword and returning it in its sheath.

Kili sighed in relief and dropped the sword to his side. He turned back to the elf, who appeared to be standing still, unmoving and unsure of what to do. He didn't know what else to say to her. It did look like she needed temporary shelter, food and some rest, but he wasn't in the position to invite an elf into his dwarven company. He was already in deep trouble as it was, and he didn't want to lose his uncle's trust. He picked up his bow and his sword and gave the elf one more lingering look before joining his company and standing beside his brother.

Now that Kili was out of the way, Thorin focused on the tall woman before him. She looked back at him—frightened, yet cool—with eyes as bluer than a summer sky. He expected as much. Not once has he seen an elf cower in fear. It was just unlike them. But if his oldest nephew claimed they heard a woman screaming at the top of her lungs for help, this elf was certainly something special.

"Who are you?" Thorin commanded in a gruff tone.

As Thorin's eyes continued to scrutinize her 'vile being', Miniel gulped once, twice—three times before she could finally get rid of the lump in her throat. She had never had any problems speaking in front of people before, but then again, she had never spoken to a dwarf before, let alone thirteen of them. She knew there was bad blood between the two races, but she didn't know it was _this_ bad. Each and every dwarf looked at her like a…like a monster with six heads and sharp claws. They all had at least one hand 'idly' gripping any sort of weapon, but she already had an inkling of what will happen if she didn't get in their good graces.

"I'm, uh, I'm—"

"_Do not reveal your real identity." _

"—Miniel—" _Oops_, Miniel thought. _Who was that anyway? _

"_It is I, Gandalf the Grey."_

Miniel's eyes darted to the tall wizard standing behind the company. She could tell by his narrowed eyes that her little slip up had him mentally smacking his forehead and shaking his head at her. She couldn't smile at him sheepishly, what with 14—well, 13 dwarves glaring at her with eyes that scream bloody murder.

"—of Lórien. I am Miniel, hailing from the forests of Lórien," Miniel finished as confidently as her voice could muster.

"Lórien?" Thorin repeated, his eyes burning with even more suspicion.

"Yes. I was, um, sent by my Lord Celeborn to um…"

Miniel thought she was about to pass out. _What excuse can I even give to this guy? It's not like he's going to believe me_, she mused fervently as her eyes scanned her surroundings for an alibi—any story at all—that was plausible enough to get these dwarves to release her from their death glares. Seconds continue to pass as she discreetly tried to look for an answer, and the only answer her mind could think of involved the berry bush right beside the dwarf who saved her.

"…find new fruits we could turn into wine," Miniel said in an attempt to level her voice. Even Miniel had a hard time selling her own excuse. Every word that came out of her mouth ended up with a different pitch, _which _definitely_ did not sound like a liar at all_, but it's not like she could take them all back. "It was more of Lady Galadriel's request, really. She was afraid our vineyard would run out, so um, she sent a few us to find alternatives—"

"Enough!" Thorin bellowed. He studied her fidgety body—her feet shuffling, her hands fiddling themselves behind her back, her face much tenser. After years and years of helping her sister raise two little boys, he knew exactly what a liar looked like, and sounded like. If he wasn't mistaken, this elf was lying to his face. _Again_. "I assume you had a company. What happened to them?"

"We were attacked by orcs," Miniel said, her shoulders tensing up even more at the thought of her deceased guards. She hoped each of them came out of that ambush unscathed, but there was no way of telling unless she travel back to the scene of the crime and check for herself. "But I am unsure of their condition. I, uh, wasn't around to see."

"And why not? _Surely_ you didn't abandon your company," Thorin mocked. The rest of the dwarves started rumbling in low snickers as they watched Miniel's expression turn from anxious to peeved. "Oh, wait. I almost forgot. Elves are notorious for abandoning friends in need—"

"I did not _abandon_ my company," Miniel retorted, wiping the smug grin on Thorin's face. "I was forced to leave them to fend for themselves."

Miniel's body was now rigid in what any dwarf would call mild irritation, but she was absolutely furious. She couldn't believe anyone would accuse her of being selfish enough to abandon her own kin in times of need. As a princess, that was the last thing she would ever do. And what right did this dwarf have to insult her and question her morality, like she had personally done something despicable to him?

"If insulting me and accusing me of such treacherous things brings you joy, then fine. Have at it. But I'm not going to stand here and be treated like an abhorrent creature, when it is you who is clearly the revolting one. So if you are going to continue insulting me, at least allow me to leave as I have other important matters to attend to, like returning home."

Just like that, Miniel broke eye contact with what seemed to be the rudest dwarf to have ever walked the lands of Middle-Earth and proceeded to pick up her sword. She had only spent 10 minutes with these dwarves and they were already getting on her nerves. She just wanted to get away from them and find a way home already. If one of the members of her company survived—and she hoped it was Lothwen—who knows how worried her father will be when he finally gets word of what had happened.

Except Thorin wasn't having any of it.

Just as she was about to pick it up off the ground, a rather large boot had stepped on it, causing her jolt backwards in surprise. What made it even much worse was the sword being pointed directly at her face.

"Did you actually think I was going to let you go after lying to me, and then insulting me in front of my own company?"

Thorin's deep, heavy voice caused hairs on the back of Miniel's neck to stand. In contrast to his nephew's welcoming brown eyes, Thorin's were icy blue that held so much contempt and so much hatred that Miniel couldn't even look him dead in the eye. In fact, she was frozen, once again, kneeling down on the ground with her head bowed in obvious fear. But fear didn't stop her mouth from running.

"I am not a liar," Miniel spoke. She just hoped that even she would believe the lies she was telling.

"And what makes you think I believe you?"

"Hope," she managed to say as she looked up at the very person who could take her life at any moment, "since you clearly have no trust in elves at all."

Unimpressed by her wit, Thorin's grim expression hardened, and out of sheer annoyance, he pushed Miniel onto her back with his boot. He kept her there with a firm foot on her stomach, his sword unwavering as he continued to point it at her.

"You think you're quite clever, don't you, elf?" Thorin spat as he glowered at terrified elf before him. He could see it in her eyes, the regret and acceptance of her words and actions. He had never witnessed such expressions in the eyes of an elf before, and for a moment, he was willing to let her go—let her return home to her kin. Yet, there was something else he saw. Something that boiled his blood and refreshed old, terrible memories he would never, ever forget. He saw the eyes of his enemy—the eyes that turned away and left them there to suffer as Smaug wreaked havoc on their homeland.

His thoughts will always be plagued by that day, and will only rest in peace when they reclaim their home and restore the glory of their kingdom.

But now, there was only her, and he had her right where he wanted her, under his clutches. Her piercing blue eyes drove him mad, and the only thing to remedy his anger was to see them closed. Permanently.

"Well, let's see if you're clever enough to get out of this."

A symphony of gasps suddenly echoed the forest as the company watched Thorin raise his sword above his head. _Was he really going to kill this woman for no reason? _They knew they had to stop him—Fili and Kili especially knew they had to wrestle the sword out of his hands, but all of them stayed glued on their spots out of shock.

Thorin was ready to stab it, right across her chest, yet he just kept it up there, above his head. At any moment, he could just take her life and be done with it, but the way her eyes widened and the sound of the whimper that left her mouth—they just brought him back to reality, a reality where Thorin Oakenshield taught his nephews to protect and respect women, which was something he should be doing.

In the midst of all of this, Miniel didn't know how to feel anymore. Yes, she was frightened. To the bones, actually, but today felt so…unreal that she didn't know whether she should at least try to escape another near-death experience, or just let go and experience death itself.

But luckily, she didn't have to make that decision when she felt the weight of his foot disappear from her stomach and Thorin returned his sword to its sheath. She let out an audible sigh of relief and sat up, watching the dwarf walk back to his company.

"Well, _finally_ you've come to your senses," the tall, old man finally piped up as he made his way to the front of the crowd. "I've had enough of this foolish rivalry between the dwarves and the elves."

He walked over to Miniel and helped her up, something she appreciated a little bit too much, considering only one person was nice enough to give a helping hand.

"Thank you," she mumbled, smoothing out her clothes and wiping the dust off them. "I'll be on my way now."

"Nonsense!" Gandalf exclaimed. "You will spend the night with us."

Suddenly, the whole company (with the exception if Bilbo and Kili) burst out into disapproving comments and insults. Thorin especially strode over to Gandalf, clearly unhappy with this 'suggestion'.

"You have no say on who joins this company," Thorin retorted.

"Who said she was joining the company? I was just offering her a place to rest after being terrorized by orcs. You can clearly see how tired and famished she looks."

"Um, sir—"

"Oh, it's Gandalf, my dear," Gandalf smiled.

"Alright, _Gandalf_," she smiled back, rather awkwardly, "I don't need a place to rest. I just want to go home."

"Don't be silly, my darling. Lórien is miles away from here! You won't last a day if you don't get any rest," Gandalf reasoned.

"Thank you, Gandalf, but I'll find a way to rest on my own," Miniel answered back. "I'm not invited to stay, and that's fine with me. "

"See, Gandalf. She doesn't want to stay. End of discussion—"

"You know, Thorin Oakenshield, it wouldn't hurt to at least be respectful to a woman, elf or not, most especially after you attempted to kill her."

That had Thorin in his hands. Of course, Thorin hadn't _meant_ to kill her, even if he was driven by his own heart's hidden desires of killing the Elvenking, but it was completely unnecessary to even _attempt_ to kill an innocent woman. Now that Gandalf was throwing it in his face, he wished he hadn't done it at all. He couldn't care less about looking bad in front of his company, but it mattered to him what his nephews thought of him, and today was definitely not his day.

If this was the only way he could redeem himself in their eyes…well, he wouldn't have to talk to her, right?

"Fine, she can stay. But only for tonight. Tomorrow morning, awake or not, we leave her," Thorin huffed, right before stomping through his company and leading them back to camp.

Everybody else just followed suit, but not without questioning the leader of their company and yelling their disapproval of the whole situation.

Miniel watched as all the dwarves filed out, rather noisily. As much as she needed to sleep and eat and take care of her wounds, spending a night with these dwarves would be a nightmare. She didn't know if they would even offer her food or medicine or a bedroll. She knew this was going to be a huge mistake, but she couldn't say no to the one other person who tried to help her.

As the company walked away, she heaved a deep sigh and started collecting her things, but not without sneaking a glance to see the small creature with big, hairy feet slowly backing away, clearly debating whether he should stay or go. Miniel thought he should go, lest he wanted to get in trouble with that intolerable dwarf, but she wanted him to stay, just so she make another new friend, something she was definitely going to need to survive the night.

"Bilbo, c'mon!" someone called out from within the trees, and just like that, the decision was made for him.

As if reading her mind, he shot her an apologetic look before scampering off with the company and disappearing into the woods. Once he left, she continued to gather her belongs and put them back in the appropriate places.

"You better hurry up, my dear, before Bombur claims all the stew for himself," Gandalf quipped.

"How do you know who I am?" Miniel questioned instead. It's not like she would get the joke anyway. She didn't even know who Bombur was. She didn't even know who Gandalf was, yet he seemed to have an inkling of who she was.

"You are princess of Mirkwood. I think that is something I should know."

"But we've never met, yet you seem to know…_who I am_."

"We've never met, but I've certainly met your father," Gandalf clarified. "I visited him when your mother passed away…and when you discovered your powers."

"But I was 50-years-old at that time. How come we didn't cross paths?"

"You father requested that we don't meet. I thought it was silly, but I had to respect his wishes."

_Typical_, Miniel thought as she rolled her eyes. _I should probably run away from him while I still can._

"Running away is not a good idea, Miniel," Gandalf advised as he walked over to her torn up notebook.

Miniel's eyes widened once she realized what Gandalf had meant. "Did you just—"

"Read your mind? Why yes. Yes, I did," Gandalf grinned, picking up bits and pieces of paper.

"How…how are you doing that?"

"Well, I'm a wizard. I think I should be able to do that."

_A wizard?_ Miniel had never met a wizard before, surprisingly, considering Radagast the Brown lived in the same forest she did. But then again, she remembered how irrational and unfair her father was and attributed her lack of experience to him. Now that she was free, and her father had no clue where she was, she was thinking about running away again, to travel to new places and experience new things. This was the opportunity of a lifetime—

"You are thinking about running away again, aren't you?" Gandalf asked with an amused grin.

Miniel chuckled and hid the last of her weapons. "When you've been sheltered all your life and now you're out in the open, it's hard not think about it."

"Well, my dear, as much as I want you to experience your newfound freedom, I can't let you do that. We have to get you to Valinor right away—"

"Why, Gandalf? Why is it so important that I go there?"

There was a moment of silence between the two, but it was a silence Miniel could not tolerate. She needed answers—honest, rational answers—and she needed them now. If they all want her to ship her to the Undying Lands, they were going to have to meet her half way and give her what she asked for. Instead of answering her though, Gandalf just looked at her cautiously, intently. The suspense was killing her, so she raised her eyebrows at him expectantly to get an answer out of him.

"We'll need to talk about this with Lord Elrond," Gandalf spoke as he turned to walk back to the campsite. "We must get you to Rivendell immediately and send word to your father that you are safe. Come along now."

"Gandalf, you cannot be serious," Miniel said in disbelief as she watched Gandalf walk away. "I need to know—"

"Listen, my dear, I know you have questions. Lots of them, and Lord Elrond has the answers."

"I was there Gandalf. He didn't tell me anything."

"Well, now that you've decided to run away, I think he'd be willing to provide answers," Gandalf assured her, and without a moment's hesitation, picked up his pace and made his way to camp.

Watching Gandalf disappear through the trees, Miniel threw her head back and grunted up at the dark blue sky in frustration. _Again._ she was being snubbed _again_. Was the situation really that bad that even she, who was in the center of it all, couldn't even know about it? However bad it was, she still wanted to know—deserved to know what was going on, and if she wasn't going to get any answers soon, they might as well forget sending her off to Valinor because she wasn't going to leave Middle-Earth without having any reason to do so.

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**I'm hoping that was worth the wait, if you were waiting haha. I'll try to update faster, but that's something I can't guarantee anymore since a new semester is starting. Maybe since I have creative writing, I'll have an excuse to write more, but we'll see! Anyway, some reviews would be lovely though, I'd like to get your thoughts on this chapter. :-) Thank you so much for reading, favoriting and following! **


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